Funeral Dirge
by Zsadist Cortel
Summary: Canada was dead.  His little brother was dead.  America couldn't believe it.  It was all their fault. #3 in my new HAU series! Mentioned suicide, child abuse/rape, and slight violence and cursing.


**Summary: Canada was dead. His little brother was dead. America couldn't believe it. It was all their fault. #3 in my new HAU series! Mentioned suicide, child abuse/rape, and slight violence and cursing. See A/N for more details on story and the series.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I do however own a Graveyard of Nations, located in Switzerland.**

_**Graveyard of Nations, Switzerland –Mid July**_

Canada was dead. America couldn't believe it. He watched his brother's casket being lowered into the ground, England beside him. They were crying. His little brother had killed himself and, somehow, he knew it was all their fault. America never spent much time with his northern brother, too wrapped up in his own life to remember Canada was there most of the time. Canada would always be there later, America had told himself. Now, Canada would never be there again. America would never have a chance to spend time with his little brother, and it was all his fault.

England's eyes were glazed as he watched the casket disappear into the earth. It was their -everyone's- fault, and he knew it. They had ignored poor Canada so much that he felt suicide was his best, maybe only, option. England thought back to the happy child he had taken from France so long ago. England had done it to save Canada from what France had done to him as a child. England couldn't let France to have the chance to abuse another young nation.

Even after so long, England was still scarred, both mentally and emotionally, by the things France had done to him while England had been under his rule. England couldn't, and wouldn't, allow such a thing to happen to anyone else if he could stop it. At first, he had spent a great deal of time with Canada, but soon found he had trouble being near the boy who looked so much like France. He subconsciously began to block out the boy's existence.

England knew that it had been for Canada's own good that he took him from France, but he never wanted the boy's life to end like this- to end at all! 'Maybe,'England thought sorrowfully. 'I shouldn't have taken him from France. I didn't know for sure that France would hurt Canada the way he hurt me. He probably would have, but maybe if I hadn't taken Canada away...he would still be alive.' England shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. No one could ever be better off being abused. England had tried to do what was right. It was because he didn't see it through that this happened, not the fact that he had taken Canada from France in the first place.

England glanced up at his lover. He knew America was feeling a lot of guilt, too. The guilt seemed to intensify with the fact that no one else came to Canada's funeral except South Korea, Cuba, China, and (surprisingly) Ukraine and the Netherlands. Even Canada's father, France, hadn't made an appearance. This made England and America more upset than anything. The gloomy day seemed to reflect their feelings of loss and anguish.

After the funeral ended, the two of them got into America's car. Neither said a word. Both already knew where they were going. They drove up to a large townhouse in central Paris. It was beautiful, in an over the top fashion. No one answered the door at their persistent knock, so they let themselves in. They found France in the parlor, lazily sipping his wine.

"Where were you?"England demanded. "Don't you realize that your son is dead? That Canada is dead? Why weren't you at his funeral today?"

"Ah, mon petite lapin" France looked up with a small smile. "How nice of you to visit me." Looking over and seeing America, France scowled. "Perhaps next time you will leave your pet at home and come by yourself. We can have some fun. Like we used to when you were little. Remember that mon cher?" England paled and America moved closer to him in a comforting, protective manner. England's anger returned with a vengeance only moments later.

"Stupid frog! Answer me! Why didn't you come to your own son's funeral?" France looked at them, uncaring.

"Why would you care if I came to my son's funeral? What does it matter? You took him from me, his father! You turned him against me! Why would it matter if I came to his funeral? I wasn't part of his life, why should I be part of his death?" France said, face apathetic, his tone betraying his resentment as he narrowed his eyes at England accusingly.

"You son of a bitch!" America cried, speaking for the first time since before he and England had arrived at the funeral. "Don't you even care that Canada is dead?" America stopped as he said the words out loud. Their meaning struck him like a pile of bricks landing on his head. _'My...brother...my brother is...my brother...is...dead.'_ His eyes widened and tears sprung to his eyes. England wrapped his arms around America, trying to be comforting. England gave France a long, hard glare. His emerald eyes alight with cold fury and the promise of damnation.

"You know why I took Canada away from you. I couldn't let you hurt him like you hurt me. If that meant I had to turn him against you, then that is what I did." England's voice was cold. France smiled wryly.

"I would not have hurt my son, L'Angleterre! I realized my mistake with you. I would have waited until he was old enough to enjoy it. He was my chance to get you back, as well. I know how you love children. You could have raised him with me,"France's voice began to take on a pleading, whiny tone. " I never would have loved him as much as I love you mon petite lapin! I could never love anyone as much as I love you! Couldn't you have let me keep _him_ at least since you refuse to return to me? He and I could have had fun together, like I used to with you when you were small! You remember that, don't you mon cher?" France's mouth twisted into a lecherous smirk at that, obviously reliving the memories in his head. America stepped toward France, fully intending to beat France into a bloody puddle on his own lavish carpet. America was too late though.

"You sick fuck!" England's fist came at France's face, catching him in the nose and possibly breaking it. "Your own son...your own son is _dead_ and all you can talk about is how you wanted to use him for your own selfish desires! How you used me! Have you no humanity left?" France was on the floor, holding his bleeding face in pain. America watched wide eyed as England walked over and kicked France in the face for good measure. "Even after what you did to me, I _still_ thought you had some humanity left in you, some ability to love. I guess that was too generous of me." England grabbed America's arm and , turning their backs to the pained Frenchman getting up off the floor, lead him from the townhouse. England slammed the front door behind them before pushing America into the passenger seat of the car and getting into the driver's seat himself.

Once in the car, England waited for America to pull himself out of his shocked state. When he had, England pulled away from the curb, not once looking back at the house they had just left. A blond Frenchman watched them from the front window of a second floor bathroom, a large icepack on his swollen face. The man in the window watched as the car got smaller and smaller in the distance, before turning away and letting the curtain close over the window once more.

_**Canadian Wilderness, One Year Later**_

America had been watching over Canada's lands and people since his brother's suicide. Suicide. He still couldn't believe that Canada had done such a thing, that they had driven him to it. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, America resumed his hike. This region of Canada was little explored by anyone (save the previous owner). There had been talk of seeing a small child running around here alone. America felt it was his job as the hero to check it out and return the child to its family.

A bush nearby rustled and America peered at it cautiously. Seconds later a small boy appeared from behind the bush. The child had wavy blond hair with one long curl out of place, violet eyes, and beside him was a small white polar bear. America's breath caught in his throat.

"Canada?" America choked out. The boy looked up, curious.

"How'd you know my name mister? Me and Kumajirou never met you before." Canada looked up at America suspiciously. The bear next to Canada whispered in his ear softly and Canada scowled cutely. "Kumajirou says we know you, but I'm not sure how." The little reincarnated nation looked doubtful.

"You've been gone for a while. I'm not surprised you don't remember me. I'm your brother, America. I've missed you." America felt like the world had suddenly run out of air. He tried to sound calm and friendly even as his mind raced, trying to figure out how Canada came to be reborn like this. "Both myself and England, my lover, have missed you a lot." Emotion filled America's voice. It was plain to Canada that America truly meant what he said. Canada knew that America hadn't been lying to him.

"Oh, okay." Canada smiled and launched himself at the taller blond. America managed to catch Canada in his arms, settling the reborn nation on his hip. Kumajirou stood next to America, keeping an eye on his small charge. 'This must be where he went after Canada died,' America thought. Kumajirou hadn't been in the house when they found Canada and, before now, no one had seen him since before his master's death.

"Say...little brother?" America nearly cried as he said those words again after so long. "Want to come home with me and live? England and I have missed you a lot and we'd love for you to live with us." Canada looked excited, then hesitated glancing down at the small polar bear beside them.

"Can Kumajirou come too?" The little northern nation asked carefully. America laughed at the cute, concerned face Canada made.

"Of course Kumajirou can come too! He's part of our family," America said jovially. He wasn't sure how Canada came to be alive again, but he was thankful to whatever force had caused this miracle. America had his brother back.

"Okay then. As long as Kumajirou can come, I'll go live with you and this mister England." America felt his heart soar. His brother had returned to him. Not the same as before, but still he had returned. Now he and England would have a chance to make it right with Canada. They would raise him and take care of him. They would make sure, no matter what, that this Canada's life didn't end the way the first Canada's did. This time, America and England would shower little Canada with love and attention. They would spend time every day with him. They wouldn't ever forget him again. They would protect Canada, even from themselves and their own stupidity.

America started to walk back up the path he had just come down. Little Canada was still on his hip and Kumajirou ambled along next to the tall nation. "Wait until England sees you little brother!" America exclaimed, looking down at the top of the smaller nation's golden head and smiling. "He'll be so surprised and the look on his face will be priceless!" Canada squirmed happily in his brother's arms and giggled.

Canada looked at the taller blond from his position in America's arms. He liked this man, his brother. Canada had been alone for quite a few months, having just woke up one day in this forest. He only knew his name and that he was a nation. He also knew, somewhere inside himself, that he wasn't supposed to remember anything else. Kumajirou had found him a few hours after he woke up. Instantly, he knew the bear was his friend. The bear took care of him. Today, Kumajirou had smelled this man, America, near them in the woods. He had said that they knew him, but Canada didn't remember ever meeting this person before. Little Canada trusted his bear friend though, so they approached the American. Canada snuggled into his big brother's warm hold as America walked on.

Canada and America continued their journey back to America's house, making idle conversation every once in a while, but mostly they were each absorbed in their own thoughts on the other. America noted to Canada that earlier last year the former nation of Prussia had run off, or disappeared at least. It was quite odd. Even Prussia younger brother, Germany, and Germany's friends the Italy twins had no clue about where or why Prussia had disappeared. Canada, for his part, mostly talked about what he and Kumajirou had done in the last few months they'd been together. Kumajirou just continued walking next to them, occasionally feeling the need say something random. It had been a beautiful day, but as America surreptitiously took another quick look at the reincarnation of his sweet little brother, the world seemed to become even more amazing. This was a second chance, for all of them. This time, they would do it right.

****The End****

**Translations:**

**mon petite lapin: my little rabbit**

**mon cher: my dear**

**L'Angleterre: England**

**A/N: Yes, I did cave in and write a sequel to Happy Birthday, but it is also a sequel to my other new story I Hate You. You really need to have read both to get the full affect of the story. Time wise, this is the third in a series of stories I am now calling the HAU (Hetalia Angst Universe) fics. All of the stories in this series will build on one another in some way. So no skipping random ones, you might miss something important to the next one. The Graveyard of Nations that the first scene of the story is set in is the place where the human bodies of nations are put to rest when they die. It's in Switzerland because they are always neutral (or because that's the first place I could think of to put it). I know there are a few plot holes, but please bear with me on that. I may write more about England and America raising the new Canada, but I don't think I'll write England's reaction to America coming home with the new Canada. So, if anyone wants to write that they can. Just send me the link and/or name of the story so I can read it and direct people to it. Review please, and tell me what you think.**


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